An engineered explosion of erroneous exposition.

the cows came home

hey, old man
hey
you fart-bag piss pot
Death is coming
not
on swift wings
not with trumpets, not
upon a pale horse
it
marches
to the steady
beat
of time’s second hand
unstoppable,
relentless
so get
while the gettin’s good
strike while the iron’s
hot
shoot first
stand on your feet
fight the law
live for the moment
make love
make war
make one dream come
true
it’s all ending
the slow, steady slide
will drop off
exactly
when it’s meant to
&not a moment sooner

the last place
you want to be is
that
boring familiar haunt
with that
boring familiar story
about
how when you were
young enough to
passionately burn
bridges
with a madman’s glee
you
played
it safe, did the noble thing
took the soldiers’ pension
and withered
away
in front of the
idiot box
into a microwave
t.v dinner

betting on the nobility
of others
hoping that salvation
will play its hand